Lost Paradise
by Meanne77-2x1
Summary: [one shot] Someone is watching an other one in a bar... It's been decided : it will be him, and it will be tonight.


Title : Lost Paradise  
Author : Meanne77  
E-mail : meanne77_2x1@hotmail.com  
Pairing : Hmm... 1+2?  
Warnings : POV, fanfic by night (arf, maybe the roleplayers will understand...)  
  
Disclaimer : Okay, I'm kind of desperate but I must confess... that they're not mine. Duo sure owns Heero and... I wouldn't try to steal him from him for anything in the world! 

As always, thanks to Natea who works her magic for me.

  
Lost Paradise

  
I have been watching him for a little while now, but this time, I am sure : he is the one. Yes, it will be him, and it will be tonight. I can't wait anymore.  
I haven't looked anyway else but from the bars which don't close at night.Pure logic. Instinct, too.  
To increase my chances, I have established a whole tour of the town. Those kind of things can't be done thoughtlessly. Maybe it was the irony of fate that made me see him here for the first time? Lost Paradise. It is the name of the bar where we are. Or I shouldsay, where he comes and where I wait for him. From the moment my gaze came to rest on him, I knew deep inside me he was exactly what I was looking for.  
He seems to be young, about twenty at the very most. His hair isconfined in a long braid which lashes sensually against his back. I am ready to bet it has the softness of silk. His skin is the color of mother-of-pearl. I don't know what shade his eyes are, I haven't approached him enough for that, but I can see them sparkling intensely. I think they are blue. I admire the feline grace of his movements, intoxicate myself with his vision.  
He is beautiful, of course.

When I saw him for the first time, it was at most a month ago, right here, in this very place. I always sit down in the back of the room, in a dark corner to see without being seen, and to observe the people who come to lose themselves here. Him, he always goes to the bar, to flirt with the customers and the barmen. Sometimes he leaves alone, sometimes he is accompanied. The gender of his encounters does not seem to matter to him.  
As soon as I saw him, I knew he was the one I wanted and since that moment I ceased my bar rounds to come here and wait for him. He does not come every night, he too must have other places of perdition, but it is always here that I am waiting for him. Lost Paradise. Because it could not be any other way.   
But tonight, I have decided to end it all. I have hadenough of this little game of observation, my choice is done. It will be him, him and no one else.  
I hope he will leave alone tonight, but if not... I will manage. Like I have said, I can't wait anymore.

I let the hours fly by. My glass remains untouched on my table, I play with it between my fingers. My gaze is locked on my "prey", I memorize every one of his gestures, of his veneered expressions, I dream about the sound of his voice. Sometimes, a burst of laughter reaches me beyond the ambient noise. Oh yes, he is beautiful! I have chosen him marvellously. I am febrile, tonight, almost impatient. And even, in spite of everything, on some level, happy.   
I am eager for him to get up and go out of this place to return to his lair, but I don't want to rush things. This night is far too important for I will spoil everything by impetuosity. Each night is unique, and this one more than any others, so I have decided to savour with sadism the minutes that are stretching away.  
My mind records the noise around, the fragments here and there of drunkard's conversations, but I don't pay any attention. My whole being is devoted to nothing else besides this nocturnal creature who is moving beneath my eyes. I take delight in the seduction he exercises on his circle. I am the first to be affected, and our eyes have not even crossed one another. I am waiting for my time. I have the whole night before me...

Ah! he gets up, at last. He goes out.  
Alone.  
I get up as well and throw a banknote on my table, much more than required to pay my bill, unconcerned about the amount of the tip I leave. My hand barely shakes.   
I go out after him, jostling someone as I go by and I don't take the trouble to excuse myself. What for?  
The fresh air of the night cuts me like a knife but I don't let myself become distracted by the smells that assault me. I have no difficulty seeing his chestnut braid moving away and I go hunting, if I may say so. Not without some amusement, but with anxiety too. Anticipation of a moment which is appearing to be more and more ineluctable.   
I follow him discreetly as he goes through the streets and alleys. He accelerates. Has he felt me? Is he simply in a hurry to get back to his den? It is already late, or early, the sun will be here soon. I don't have much time left.  
I accelerate too.  
I have already followed him, in a very few occasions in the past, but never this far, never this long. I did not want to take risks before being absolutely sure about him. But no more shams, no more holding back.  
He turns again, approaching the quays. I trail him. My heartbeat increases, the blood pulses at my temples. My lips are dry, I moisten them.  
He crosses over, quickens his step. I do the same. I breathe faster, with more difficulty. I have waited for this moment so badlyI couldn't sleepanymore.  
He turns into the shadow of an alley. So do I.  
It is dark and I can't make out his silhouette, but I can feel his presence. Is he hiding?  
"Care to tell me what game you're playing?"  
I turn around, and he is there. How has he got behind without me noticing?  
"You're following me?"  
His eyes are shining. He comes near me and I can guess the location ofhis smile in the obscurity.  
"Answer."   
His voice barks, strong and firm, impetuous and wild. Predatory.  
"I... Yes..." I bite my lip. I have the impression that a frozen hand has just closed up around my heart. He appears taller to me, all at once. And what is this feeling that is sweeping through me suddenly?  
He laughs. It is a low, deep, suave laugh. Seductive.  
"I think this is the first time this has happened to me..." he whispers. "Humans'll never cease to surprise me..."  
"I know who... what you are," I say, doing my best to control my body. His presence is imposing, morbid. My heart beats fast. In spite of the dark, I can see a bit of tongue come to caress his lips. I have a tremendous itching in my legs, I have difficulties stayingmotionless despite his gaze that nails me to the spot.  
"Really?" he asks, in a tone more than amused. He is mocking. And he is right. I felt so self-assured but now that I am alone with him in this alley, I realise that I am not in control anymore.  
I never was, in fact.  
"You know, and you come to throw yourself in my arms? Are you crazy?" he asks again, and I see his red tongue once again quickly passing on his lips.  
"I... I was looking for you. I was tracking you down."  
He laughs, again.  
"I think you don't really get who's the hunter, here," he says, and I have some difficulty swallowing the lump in my throat. It is stupid, but I have just come to notice that we are in a dead end and that he is standing in front of the only exit. I thought I was chasing him, he is the one who trapped me.  
"You desire that much to die?" he sniggers, and before I have the time to answer I find myself pinned to the brick wall, the weight of his body pressed against mine. His hand hugs my throat tightly. His skin is cold. His eyes burn.  
"Answer me, little lamp," he purrs, tightening his hold on my neck, a carnivorous smile on his lips.  
"Yes..."  
"And you thought that killing yourself was lacking in style? You wanted something with more class? Such as being bled like a pig for example?" he growls. The brightness of his eyes is unbearable.  
"I don't deserve to simply die," I say, but I can hardly think. He is hurting me.  
And he is frightening me.  
This is stupid, it does not make any sense to be afraid of him when I am the one who has come to him, but now that the time is here, themoment where he kills me, I feel a primal fear churning my stomach.  
"And I can't commit suicide, " I continue, terrified by the creature who is holding my life and my death between his frozen fingers. My heart beats faster again. His glance changes. He must have felt it...  
"No? And just what do you call throwing yourself into the arms of a vampire?" he asks with a nasty look, finally letting his sharp canines appear. They are white and gleaming with saliva.  
"Damnation."  
"'Cause you think I'd make you one of my kind?"  
He laughs again and his laugh is as cold as his skin. How beautiful he is in this obscurity that surrounds us. He is shining with the brightness of the dark.  
"You think you deserve to become immortal? You see this as a gift?"  
"N...no. I think it is a malediction," I answer with difficulty, and I mean it. It is why I so looked for someone like him.  
The flame in his eyes changes again. Maybe is he ready to hear me?  
"And what have you done, little puppet, to wish for the load of eternity?"  
My heart is bleeding. More than ever the guilt sweeps through me.  
"I... have killed people," I hiccough painfully.  
"I kill every night," he replies, merciless. "You feel guilty?"  
"I didn't want to..." I sob.  
"Then you feel so much remorse about the fact that you've killed that you wish to be condemned to kill for eternity?"  
"No! I want... I will feed on animals, on vermin! I want to have to flee from the sun! I want to not be able to do anything besides contemplate the obscurity of the night! I want..."  
"I'll tell you..." he cuts me short, tightening his fingers again, "you're too weak. Look at you... you're pathetic. You don't deserve for me to Embrace you... I should bleed you to death. I should drink to the last drop of your blood. Slowly..." he whispers, and I feel his cold lips running along my neck. "I should drink you and watch you beg me to cut short your suffering," he says again.  
A sharp burn strikes me and the sudden taste of blood in my mouth chokes my scream. He crushes me even harder against the wall, I am caught in a stranglehold, I feel like my ribs are breaking and I feel my blood being flowed out of me, being drained violently. His teeth rip the tender and vulnerable skin of my throat.   
I had always read that, contrary to what one might think, the kiss of a vampire is a moment of ecstasy...  
It is not true. It hurts. I am drowning in my own blood, I want to throw up, I want to struggle but I don't have the strength, he is holding me too firmly, I can't measure up againsthim. I am scared.  
I am scared of dying.  
My strength begins to desert me and I sense I am sobbing ; maybe even imploring him. My heat is beating so fast I can't hear anything else, the cold strikes me and worst of all, I can feel _his_ skin gradually getting warmer.  
Then suddenly, he lets go of me and I collapse on the ground.  
"But killing you would please you too much, wouldn't it? You'll have to live, on the contrary..."  
He makes a graceful and agile side step and I realise he is no longer blocking the way out. I lean on my hands with difficulty, on all fours, like an animal. My head is swimming, his voice seems deformed when it reaches me.  
"But don't think you're gonna escape that easily, Heero," he sniggers, and the small amount of blood I have left freezes.  
How does he know my name?  
"You wanted a hunter? You're gonna have him. I like the taste of your blood, little lamp..."  
I freeze and lift terrified eyes toward him. His gaze burns me, his lips, red from my blood, hold me in place, his malicious smile petrifies me.  
"You won't be able to go out at night without wondering if I'm on your track or not. Maybe I will kill you, maybe I will drink you, like tonight, maybe I will change you. Or maybe I'll never harm you again. You'll never know where I am unless I want you to. I'll decide on your life or your death, and believe me : I've got _all the time in the world..._" he purrs again, and I shiver. "Or maybe I'm gonna finish with you tonight, after all? What do you think... Heero?"  
I swallow with difficulty and his ravenous gaze produces a rush of adrenaline in me. I slip away as fast as I can, on all fours first, then I manage to get up and run away, quaking at the knees. His deep and low laugh follows me until late that night, and probably for all the next. Fear is churning my stomach and no minute passes without me hearing his voice slipping in my ear : "Run, Heero, run. The game only begins..."

  
Owari... 

  
*******

Author's notes :  
1) I was asked by my French readers, so I tell you as well, lol : Duo knows Heero's name because he has drunk his blood. Duo takes advantage of that to look into Heero's mind. It was the kind of things you were supposed to learn in the real story, since...  
2) ... this isn't the "real" story, it's just supposed to be a side fic which explains how Heero and Duo met. The real story takes place about 70 years later, when Heero is Duo's ghoul. One day, this fic wanted to be written, so I wrote it. For now, Heero refuses to let me write the real story. I don't know why. Really, I don't. Lol. Anyway, even if I end up writing the real story in french, I won't translate it in english ; sorry, waaaay to much work. I don't translate if it has more than 6 pages... ^^; Hope you enjoy this one anyway... Duo sure did :p  
3) If you're curious about the vampires' universe, you can go here : (please change the -- into //), even if in my mind, I've mixed with Ann Rice's universe and others references...


End file.
